


Inconsistent Continuity

by WesternFail



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Gen, I don't know what to add, Mystery, god help me please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:59:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10019861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WesternFail/pseuds/WesternFail
Summary: Looks can deceive people, even if we know that a book cannot be judged based on its cover. We tend to believe what we see and hear about someone, instead of who they actually are. For him, there is indeed more than what meets the eye. This time around, it is an unordinary Umbreon, embarking on a journey to the endless unknown. (An original Pokemon story.)





	1. The Cabin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a story I started on FFN in 2016, later decided it might be a good idea to post it here as well, if you don't wish to wait, more chapters could be found here. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12255881/1/Inconsistent-Continuity
> 
> Act 1 and 2 chapter will be posted here once per week

_**Act 1: The Travels** _

The rain clattered against the wooden roof, there he was, laying there motionless against the cold, wooden walls of the abandoned cabin, using his bloodied arm to propped himself up on the floor. He eyes, now filled with fear and terror, staring straight into the gun barrel in his face. His opened his quivering cracked lips, as if wanting to beg for forgiveness, wanting to beg for his life, but it was all too late. Before he could even mutter a single word, the echoes of the shots ran out. The man lowered his smoking gun, looking at the body of his former friend, his gaze is empty, devoid of emotions, devoid of guilt, as if he didn’t just murder another human being, but rather an animal, a worthless, lowly animal.

 

The loose wooden floorboards creaked behind him as someone else entered the compact room, but he didn’t turn around, he didn’t even turn the barrel of his gun to meet the newcomer, he remained completely still, as if he was expecting him to arrive all along.

 

“That was no need for that, you know? What is done is done, killing him won’t change anything.” The stranger spoke, glancing at a piece of broken wooden furniture near the room’s corner through his heavy raincoat. “In fact, you just made everything worse for yourself, First Degree Assault, now Manslaughter, you won’t walk out of that prison alive. It is a pity, you were the victim. And now you are the perpetrator. It pains me, none of this would have happened if you would let us arrest him, hell, we don’t even know for sure if it is him! He might be innocent! Do you know that?”

 

The man put the gun back into his cloak, then turned around to face the stranger. “I know that…” His voice crackled, “Two wrongs don’t make a right… Killing him won’t change anything, it won’t bring him back… But it will make me feel a lot better, and that is all I am after. And… do you honestly think I care about my own life anymore? After what he did? After my beloved son was taken from me? Ha...” The man started laughing, though it is not a laughter of madness, more like a laughter of despair and misery. It eventually died off as the man resumed, “You don’t need to worry about me anymore, for I am not planning on surviving past this night. Goodbye detective, your good will is appreciated.”

 

With that, he stormed out of the room, passing the newcomer before slamming the rotten wooden door close. Leaving the newcomer alone as everything plunged once again into silence… The detective sighed, he reached into his raincoat, pulling out a radio transceiver, it felt heavier than usual, like something was dragging it down, unwilling to let him call for the plan to proceed. “I am sorry, but this is my duty.” He muttered to himself as he pressed down the button on the radio, it crackled as communication was established. “Mission failed, the objective is lost, sent out the search party, the subject is armed and highly dangerous, last seen heading towards the South of Downs Forest, proceed with extreme caution. Over.” A moment of silence soon followed, but was shattered once again as a voice replied, “Roger that sir, do you need an extraction? Over.” The detective only shook his head, “Negative, extraction is unnecessary. Over.” This time, he didn’t wait for the response on the other side, he simply switched off the radio and placed it back into his coat, not wanting to hear what his fellow officers have to say.

 

Then his ears picked up something, there is the sound of footsteps, faint, but definitely there, heading towards this room, “Why have you returned? Are you here to kill me as well? Heh, I thought you said that you will only kill out of revenge, was that a lie as well?” He paused, waiting for a response, but none came, nothing besides the light footsteps, which is getting closer by the seconds. Suddenly, it all stopped, the detective tensed his body for the sound of a gunshot, for the bullet that is sure to come, much to his surprise, nothing came, almost like everything was just the work of his imagination. He turned around in a swift stroke, only to be confronted by something he was not expecting at all, it is a creature with a sleek black body with four slender legs, its blue rings illuminating the area around it, or else it would have blended in with the darkness. Bright yellow eyes piercing through the darkness, staring right back at him, though there are a few stripes of blue in both of its eyes, radiating a feeling of eeriness. The man was obviously taken back by this change of events as he stumbled a few steps backward, “A… Shiny Umbreon? Here? In an abandoned shack?” His mind raced with explanations, but none of them makes any sense, Umbreon are rare in this part of the region, not to mention a shiny, and most of them reside in the city, not out in the wild, what he is seeing here, defies logic.

 

The Umbreon in question, however, was not paying the slightest attention to the detective, after the initial pause, it simply ignored the detective, going around him and headed straight towards the cold and limp body, leaning against the wall. It stopped just in front of the dead man’s legs, looking up at the deceased human, it let out a small sigh, which gone by unnoticed by the detective, who is paying close attention to its seemingly bizarre actions. However, it did not last long as the Umbreon turned once again to face the startled detective, the soft blue light emitted by its rings promptly increased in intensity as its eyes started to glow with the same calming light, a side pouch it was carrying opened, the one that the human failed to notice until now, and from the pouch, it removed a foreign flower, one that the man had never seen before, and placed just in front of his feet. Its pale flowers are arranged in clumps, a number of short flower stalks spreading from a common point near the stalk, with carving, narrow segments. The light dimmed as its eyes returned to their normal colour, the Umbreon looked up at the detective once more, before breaking the gaze and exiting the room, the human can hear its footsteps fading away from the room, until they are too faint to his ears to pick up, he stared at the white flower, silent, as the rain continue to pour down on the lonely cabin.

 

The Detective bends down and scooped up the flower from the mossy wooden boards, inspecting it in his palm. The flower is still relatively fresh, but he couldn’t smell its fragrant scent in the air, maybe it is too faint? Maybe it doesn’t have a scent? The human doesn’t know, he caressed its tiny petals with his fingers, being careful to not accidently rip them from away the flower, it is a beauty, a wonderful work of nature that the Detective couldn’t help to feel that he had seen it before, somewhere. Then it hits him, this flower… is the same as the ones lying in front of the Gravestone of a Murder Victim whom he visited a few days back, someone he failed to save. Lycoris Radiata, that is the flower’s name, said to be the bridging path between worlds of the living and the dead… He went still, unsure about how to make of this gesture made by that bizarre Umbreon, was it mocking him? Or was it simply paying respect to the dead? He doesn’t know, and perhaps he will never know, he just stood there, motionless, clenching the flower in his hand, as the sound of sirens appeared over in the distance....

  


(Line Break)

 

Rain continued to fell in chaotic drops, the gusting wind carrying them in wild vertices one moment and in diagonal sheets the next, running down his furred face in a thin layer, wetting his coat. It is not as cold as he expected they would be, but definitely not as warm as the summer showers he used to experience back home. Fallen leaves rattled under his footsteps while he navigated his way across the desolate forest, nothing could be heard besides the sound of raindrops as they fall from the sky, and the sound of the leaves as the wind rushed against them, the rings on his body acted as a weak light source, brightening up the otherwise dark areas around him, but he doesn’t need it, for he can see right through the unrelenting darkness as it was not there. He continued on, searching for the signs of a specific individual.

 

Quite a few minutes had passed since he left the cabin, the sound of sirens could be heard far away in the distance, distorted by the wind, making them sound more like the moans of a devilish creature, cornered, helpless. There is no possible way for him to locate the man, any scent left behind would have already been washed away by the rain and the wind would have blanketed any sounds the man made, but he continued onwards, unyielding. A thunder cried out from the blackened sky, the clouds invisible above, lighting up the entire forest for a brief second. He shuddered, the deafening boom seemed to crack the air, as if his whole body might split apart, he was never one for thunders, to him, they are like a bad omen, like a powerful figure is declaring to all beings across the land of the wrath that was to come.

 

A sound of water splash amidst the storm caught his attention, his ears twitched, trying to pick up more abnormal sounds in the direction of where the splash came from, and much to his hopes, the noise of heavy footsteps, crashing the humus layer on the ground could be heard through the howling wind. He sighed in relief, “...After all, I am going in the right direction.” he murmured himself, his footsteps quickened, eventually breaking into a sprint, head straight towards the location where he heard the splash, the human couldn’t possibly hear him coming with all these ambient sounds covering him, after all, they do have way worse hearing abilities than Pokemon. His rings dimmed, to a point where they are almost non-existent, enabling him to become one with the darkness, a neat little trick that Umbreon knows, or else there glow would make them a very obvious target at night time.

 

He eventually caught a foreign scent drifting through the air, faint, elusive, but surely there, a mixture of leather, plastic, gunpowder, and the metallic smell of human blood, there was no mistaking it, he smelled it before, reeking, rancid, yet oddly inviting. His sprint slowed, reduced to a trudge as he sniffed the air, trying his best to stay on trail of the scent, but it just wasn’t enough, the scent flicked in the air, before disappearing into the night for the first and last time. Nonetheless, the Umbreon was not deterred by the setback, determined to find that human, he turned to face the direction which he thinks the human was heading towards and continued on with his puzzling journey. He didn’t get far before his nostrils were once again assaulted by blood’s metallic scent, this time, it is only that scent, nothing else - In front of his path, like millions of red flowers, blooming, droplets of blood lay on the muddied trail, creating a walkway leading to the outskirts of the forest, the rain, gathering in torrents of water, washed away the red by the seconds, there will soon be nothing left if he doesn’t act now.

 

And he was not planning on having this opportunity go to waste, it might be his last chance to find the man, he broke into a sprint, following the path of red flowers before they wilt away by the rain, mud splattered against his sides with each step he took, the thick brown paste was not cold enough to freeze, but stiff enough to clung to his coat, sapping away what little heat they had preserved, soaking in the icy brown water, he shuddered, yet continued onwards, he will not be stopped by this level of coldness, for he had endured worse.

 

The forest start to disappear behind him as he raced forward, trees receded from view and replaced by low growing bushes, and eventually rocky flat grounds as vegetation ceased to existence, he found himself at the outskirt of the forest, strangely barren and empty, almost like a line was drawn here, a line which separates the flourished, and the arided. A steep cliff is visible, just up ahead, across the deserted land, it was more like a rocky outcrop which extends from the mainland, hanging high up in the air, rustic and rough. He inched over to the ledge and peered down into the abyss below, he could see nothing else but endless stretches of green, extending all the way to the darkened horizon.

 

Right at the furthest point of the ledge, sat a humanoid figure, wrapped tightly in a leather coat, his pistol lay on the ground, a few inches away, the man had a lit cigarette in his hand, against all odds, he stared at the cigarette between his fingers, almost short enough to burn him, he blew the last breathe of smoke into the air before leaning forward to crush it out against the wet ground.

 

“So, Detective,” The man suddenly spoke, the Umbreon has no idea how he heard him coming, but he did, “You followed me here after all, which… is not quite unexpected, it is your job after all. But… have you ever thought about that there is a difference between Law or equality, and Justice or Righteousness?” He paused, waiting for a response, a moment of silence followed, the man then resumed, thinking that the detective is not going to give a response, “Equality means that everyone gets the same things and are treated equally. Justice means that everyone gets the share that will suffice their needs and the Sinned or the Guilty will be held accountable for their actions. I heard that conversation you had, Detective,  with his Lawyer, you were planning on letting him go. Is that right? And you think I am the one who murdered my own son, is that right? I will not have any more of your lies, so I took the matter into my own hands. You made me do this, Detective. Go head, I know you have your gun pointed at me, pull the trigger, silence me, I will not resist, for I have done my duty.”

 

“...It would be more appropriate for you to save that speech for the actual Detective, human. Don’t you agree?” The Umbreon calmly spoke, startling the human as he was expecting the Detective to be the one behind him, not someone else, he sprung around, frantically searching for another human being behind him, he found nothing, nothing besides the Shiny Pokemon who is staring back at him.

 

“You… talk?”  The man inquired in hesitance.

 

“...Yes, I do talk. Frankly, more than I wish to.” The Umbreon replied in the same soothing voice, quite undaunted by the human.

 

“You talk… I guess they weren’t joking when they said that I am losing my mind… Tell me, are you real? Or is just an illusion created by a diseased mind? Trying to trick me to sink deeper into the abyss? If that is the case, please, just leave me be...” He turned his gaze away from the creature, staring back into the darkness, his shoulders hunched forward, in combination with the small amount of gray, thin hair that escaped from under his black woolen skiing hat, suddenly made him seem a lot older.

 

“... I think that answer hardly matters at this point, doesn’t it? No matter how I answer that question, you won’t believe me. Real or not, I am not here to lead you anywhere, or interrogate you about anything, I just want to know, what was your son like? Before any of this?” The Umbreon decided to approach the human, slowly but surely, and laid down right next to him.

 

The man did not react to the Pokemon who located itself beside him, but visibly flinched at its mentioning of his son, no doubt it pains man deeply to even think about him. The Umbreon thought that he was not going to answer that question, but much to his surprise, his quivering lips parted as he began to speak, “He was… just like any other boy out there, sweet and gentle, though it may sound like a cliche, but it is true. ” He paused and reached into his battered coat, pulling out a torn photo of a boy, hugging a puppy, the man gave light smile before continuing, “He was just simply a child, what should he know of death?... His hair was blonde back then, all curled up so he usually plays with it for hours in front of the mirror. He was a tough little fighter, never staying down if he fell or got knocked to the ground by one of his peers. Doesn’t socialize much, even if I told him to, mostly stuck to just a couple of friends who didn’t mind how old his clothes were. Did I say he has-”

 

“Freeze! Drop your Weapon and put your hands where I can see them!”

 

The conversation was interrupted by a shout from behind, the man jerked around to face the newcomers: A couple of Police Officers scattered around the tree line, pointing their weapons at the duo. But the man seems to be wholly unconcerned about the Police, “You should go now, I don’t want them associating you with me, I am a dead man, one way or another. You are not.” Muttering to the Umbreon beside him, who had gotten back up on its paws, “Here, take this with you,” He folded the photo of the boy before handing it to the Pokemon, “I won’t be needing this where I am going, take good care of it.” The Pokemon nodded and took it by its mouth.

 

“I said, Freeze!” One of the Officer yelled again.

 

“Go.” He picked up his gun from the ground for the last time, raising it in the general direction of the treeline, it was unloaded, its magazine is nowhere to be found. However, the Police don't know that as they fired their weapons in response. The man shook as bullets riddled him, the blood that had once flowed thick and scarlet in his veins was gushing out from the wounds, decorating his leather coat with patches of deep red. He stumbled backward, before falling off the ledge, plunging into the unseen darkness below.

 

“Target Neutralized, good work, men.” The Commanding congratulated his men.

 

“Sir, what do we do about that Umbreon?” Someone questioned.

 

“Did the Detective mention anything in his report about the Suspect owing Pokemon?”

 

“Negative, sir.”

 

“Shoot it.”

 

“Wait, what?” The Officer was appalled by what his superior’s command, ”Sir, you can’t be serious! It might be innocent!”

 

“When I say shoot! You shoot! You all saw the men gave it something, for all we know, it might be an accomplice! So shoot!”

  


The Officer sighed, raising his weapon back up and started aiming at the Shiny, all of his colleagues followed suit.

 

The Umbreon obviously took notice of the dangerous situation he is currently in, but he has nowhere to go, there is very little space for him maneuver on the ledge, not mentioning dodging bullets, if that is even possible. However, he is unfazed by the situation as he had a plan to get him out of this mess. Risky, but his only possible way out.

 

Before the Police could even react, he turned his back against them and leaped off the ledge in one swift motion, sounds of gunshots could be heard from above, but they are too late, the Umbreon is already gone.

 

He fell through the air, wind swizzling by his ear, ruffling his fur as he continued his rapid descent to the bottom, he closed his eyes, as if waiting for his doom to come, but it didn’t, instead, the sound of wind started to lessen, before disappearing entirely, his paws came in contact with solid ground, almost like they appeared out of nowhere. Knowing that his plan worked, a weak smile crept up his lips, stilling hanging onto the photograph of the lost boy, who is smiling brightly, frozen in time, away from the horrors of reality.

 

He reopened his eyes, it appears now he is standing inside a small, circular room, the walls are made out of densely packed dirt, roots could be seen growing out them, you would expect the air to be humid in such an environment, but the room is in fact quite cool and dry. The floor consists of oak planks of various colors, worn, but sturdy. There is a patch of straw placed on the floor against the wall, most likely acting to be his bed, along with a low table, a plain wooden shelf located just above the table, decorated with pieces of crystal, minerals, an array of shiny objects, and a small metal chest. His eyes glowed again with the same blue light, removing the chest from the shelf, placing it in front of him, its lock mechanisms crackled and turned without the use of a key. He went ahead and dropped the photo into the chest along with the rest of its content, before shutting it close once more.


	2. The City

Silence...is not a sign of weakness, it never was, and never will be, it is a sign of strength, often mistaken as weakness. Silence taught the people to endure the sufferings the world might throw at them, and fight back when the moment is right, it is a true friend who never betrays, and will always be there for you when you need it.

 

At least, that is what he has been telling himself, over and over again.

 

His paws pressed uncomfortably against the hard, wet concrete floor of the hallway, scattered with cracks and pioneering weeds, the teal paint over the soft wood walls peel off at random depths, showing wooden planks they are meant to protect, now black and rotten. No dust or debris remains on the floor, for they have been swept away by the wind and rain that found their way through the sagged and eroded concrete roof, slowly but surely, nature is reclaiming its place. What was once a mighty creation of steel and concrete is now a lifeless ruin, pounded by every storm and snowfall that has been here since the time its inhabitants abandoned it. Columns of sunlight made their way through the cracks on the roof, dispersing the shadows that had once cast over walls, the air inside the building is surprisingly fresh instead of the wetness that you would expect out of an abandoned estate, it has the feel of a medieval castle with none of the charm. Long ago this floor must have been layered with polished wood, it walls must have been decorated with photographs and paintings, people bumping into each other in the hallways, saying their greetings or goodbyes. Now, nothing except for an empty shell remained, this building is a husk of its former self, like a marathon runner who insists on running even after the race is over.

 

Sighing once again, the Umbreon regretted his decision to enter the city, the chances are he will be much more comfortable if he had just stayed in the wilderness that is slowly devouring this lost place. Despite the general consensus that Umbreon are more commonly found in urban areas than out in the forest, his species are quite as not adapted to the urban environment as many expected them to, his paws are aching from all the walking across the hard, man-made surfaces, not matter if it is asphalt, concrete or steel columns, they all caused him great discomfort. He would take the time when he was out in the forest with a rainstorm pouring down on him a few weeks ago over this, at least that way, it will be much easier on his paws. 

 

The Interior of this building, unlike the countless other abandoned human estates he visited before, is strangely barricaded at all places. Aside from the entrance of this apartment flat, nearly every single door inside this building is held in place by some sort of locking mechanism directly bolted onto it, like someone didn’t want anything to get into these rooms… Or they didn’t want whatever is in these rooms to get out. He did not attempt to break into any of the rooms, not because he can’t, some doors have rotten to a point where a few knocks would send it crashing down onto the ground; It is because he felt like he shouldn’t, these doors are bolted down for a reason, and he is in no mood to test his luck in a foreign world, perhaps these doors are better off remain locked for his own protection. The few which weren't locked didn’t provide him with any valuable information or context as to what happened in this city, they just contain pieces of furniture, abandoned by their residents, rotten and rusted, just like everything else in this building. He did find one soggy piece of newspaper lying on one of the tables, but its printed words are blurred and faded, too distorted for him to make anything out… if this planet’s inhabitants even speak a language he could recognize.

 

Another unlocked door gradually revealed itself to him, the lock that was meant to keep it closed lies a few feet away, shattered by blunt force. the bright red paint that once covered the door has faded into an unnatural pink, large fragments have already peeled off, leaving the splintered door bare and exposed, only a few patches of paint remained on the board, like a group of soldiers holding their last post, even if the battle is already lost. It hangs ajar on its brass hinges, creaking as he gently pressed his front paw against its moist frame. Vines of Ivy squeezed their way through the door’s upper skirts, draping over the door like a fine layer of tapestry made by nature. 

 

He took a deep breath and pushed into the door, but he encountered unexpected resistance, even though the door had been pried open, its hinges have seen so much rain and snow to the point where they have rusted over, whoever entered here must did it a long time ago. He laid down his paws and pushed into his shoulders into the weary board, it worked as the rusty hinges start to turn.

 

Well, not for long.

 

A sudden, sharp snapping noise caused him to seize up and jerked away from the door, as the half opened door start to slowly swung backwards, before smashing full force onto the floorboards behind it, breaking the silence that hung like a cloak across the building, the hinges of the door must have cracked and given away under the force of his push. He coughed a few times as he was assaulted by a cloud of dust and a strong stench of mold, rather displeased as the sound could attract unwanted attention to him, despite the fact that he had not seen a single organism since he first arrived, besides the trees and grasses that invaded the roads and streets. 

 

He walked over the fallen door and entered the room, or at least, what is left of it. It was a bedroom of some sort, only made evident by an empty, ancient iron bed frame tucked away in the corner of the room, about to collapse under its own weight, someone must have taken the mattress for their own use, or it had decayed away long ago. The room no longer has a ceiling, it most likely had caved into the room, though no debris of any sort could be found on the long untrodden floorboards, only fragments of plaster, soaked in the seasonal rain, ivies are reaching down into the room, already overrunning the upper edges of the walls and Kitchen Cupboards. Two of its outer walls have been reduced to rubble, cracked, ruined, smeared with mosses, both dead and alive, the concrete floor gave away as well, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. Sunlight shone through the gaps in the structure, giving the forgotten room some sort of liveliness, but its brightness is not pleasant to the Umbreon’s eyes, it was not the kind of brightness that warms your skin and heart, but one that blurs and distort your vision, forcing you to close your eyes or take the risk of going blind, the kind that would make the fresh snow on the summit of mountains look colourless and dull. 

 

Despite the harsh sunlight, he walked up to the edge of the ruined wall, and looked out, seeing a full view of the forsaken city for the first time. From here, the city appears relatively normal, but under closer inspection, something is horribly wrong, it has a feeling of cold and emptiness, making it less like a city, more like a forest made out of concrete and steel, lifeless. Roads in the distance leading out of the city are littered with cars, burned out and abandoned, stretching on for miles without end. Vines crept up the streetlights and signs transforming them into a pillar of green, trees and wild flower grew wild on the roads, laid down like a carpet, spanning across the city, as if waiting for a guest that will never arrive. Torn banners with blurred slogans hang on the remains of buildings, standing in defiance, refusing to follow the footsteps of their inhabitants, for now at least, in the end, they will all become dust in the wind. The only sound that could be heard is the wind, passing down the streets, howling, like a lone man screaming out his sorrow and misery. To the left, there is the clock tower, or what is left of it anyways, half of it had collapsed, leaving it hanging in the air, waiting for the right moment to crumble down, its pointers are forever stuck at a quarter past one, if he had stood still, then perhaps time had indeed frozen in place, a city lost in the abyss of time.

 

The intense light eventually forced him away from the opening, his eyes have gone slightly watery from the exposure, Umbreon can handle a normal dose of sunlight without any side effects, but at a higher intensity, they cannot last very long without taking a break to protect their light sensitive eyes. Returning his attention to the interior of the room, he began to look for any information that is of use to him, perhaps a piece of newspaper that would tell him what exactly happened in this city. 

 

The room is far from dusty, it is wet and moldy, a couple of small puddles had gathered in the dents of the floorboards, it probably had rained the day before he arrived. Mosses and vines blanketed over nearly every surface like a layer of mouldy snow, a small pile of ruined books remained in a tall bookshelf tucked away in the corner, hugging the wall, old and basic but it still maintained its integrity, shielded from the wind and rainfall by the remnants of the roof, shafts of light sneaked their way through gaps in the heavy curtains of green that hang over the windows, an old coffee mug lay on a writing desk, thickly encrusted with dried up mould, all are ancient artifacts of someone’s life, hastily abandoned. 

 

With a forceful push from his hind legs, he hopped onto the wooden chair in front of the writing desk, trying to get a clear view of the desktop itself, to see if there is anything else left behind other than that dusty coffee mug, after confirming the chair is not going to give out on his weight, he began searching for objects of interest on the table. Much to his dismay, there seems to be nothing of interest to him on the table, most of it lies hidden under a thick layer of ivy that had found its own up the table’s legs and gradually inched themselves over the desk, areas of the tabletop not covered by the ivy reeked the acrid smell of decomposing wood, the stench was strange, yet nauseating. Having no luck with the tabletop, the Umbreon turned his attention to the desk’s drawer, its handle no longer exists, making it more like a brick of wood stuffed into the desk to fill an empty space than a drawer, but no matter with or without a handle, he will open them the all same, there is a good chance that whatever is left in there will be intact, seeing how the drawers provided its contents with shelter from wind and rain. 

  
  


His eyes started to glow with the soft blue light, as the drawer begin to quiver under the force of his mental grasp. It took a lot more effort that he originally expected to pull out the drawer from its former position in the table, “The railings inside must have tarnished over the years.” He thought to himself as he increased the flow of psychic energy pulling the drawer, eventually, in this tug war between friction and pull, the pulling force emerged victories as the drawer slowly slide out of the table, revealing its contents to the broad daylight. 

  
  


… There is actually way less content in the drawer than what he anticipated, a pen with a missing cap lied in the corner, drained of the liquid which allows it to weave stories and tales, a scissor with its blades replace by a small heap of rusted metal, a roll of soggy paper fabric that resembles tape, a cheap necklace made out of small organ glass spheres… But none of these objects caught his attention as he spotted something on the top left corner that could be of important use to him: A small notebook with a plain leather cover, sitting there, waiting to be discovered, the golden letters on the cover have faded, but he can still make out the word, “Journal”. He carefully lifted the notebook from its original position using psychic, placing it on the tabletop in front of him, with a push of his paw, he slammed the drawer back into the table, causing it to shake but luckily did not break, now that is taken care of, he returned his attention to the small notebook in front of him. 

  
  


The notebook sat still on the wooden table. It wasn't particularly large or thick, but inside may lay the answer to all of this, to what happened in this city. He looked down at the book’s battered leather surface, held closed with a thin string that is about to break. He stood there, unmoving, carefully considering his options, do he really want to know what happened? He had seen enough tragedy at this point of his journey, different worlds, different scenarios,but they all ended the same way, in silence, this world is no exception. Sure, curiosity killed the cat, and he is a caine, but that rule still applies to him. Eventually, his curiosity won out against his caution, he muttered, “...Well, here goes nothing.”, flipping the cover over with his breaking the thin string that is desperately trying to protect the secret inside. Its pages are of a brittle yellow, covered in untidy, looping, convoluted handwriting, making it hard to read anything, if the author of this dairy is even trying to write something tangible, the same handwriting covered a few pages in the notebook, but eventually, he found the start of same tangible writing after flipping through a dozen pages of nonsense, it looks like the author finally put some effort into writing this journal, or it had exchanged hands and someone else is now using this notebook. The Umbreon read through the entry as he slowly muttered them out to himself. 

  
  


_ “Seventeen ninety-four, July the forty-second,” _ This world doesn’t use the same calendar as his world, he thought, on the page it just says “1794/7/42”, there is no telling if the last two digits even represent months and days, for now, he can only presume the numbers represent date the same way as his world, he continued on. 

  
  


_ “Man, the past few weeks sucked, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with the Government here, but why would they start to enforce regulations on food and sales of goods? I heard they are going to start imposing curfew across the city in a few weeks time, what are they doing? We are not at war, we are not facing any disasters and there is nothing abnormal on the news lately,  it is truly baffling, and if they are putting regulations on everything, why not cancel school as well? I still have to go to school! Anyways, it is getting late, and I don’t want parents to catch me staying up late, peace out!” _

 

So something was beginning to happen here, something bad, but even the city’s inhabitants don’t know what is actually happening, the Government here was trying to cover something up, or preparing something. “Perhaps the following entries will provide some answer.” He thought as he flipped to the next page and read on, there are two entries on this page.

  
  


_ “Seventeen ninety-four, August the third.  _

 

_ Something, something is definitely wrong, why is the military entering the city? What are they doing here? We face no war, no threat, why are they, why are they digging in? There is nothing on the news! What are they hiding from us? School has stopped, normally I would cheer in happiness, but I can’t, they are preparing for something to come, something bad on an unimaginable scale. _

 

_ God Save us all.”  _

  
  
  


_ “Seventeen ninety-four, August the seventh. _

 

_ The major just ordered a city-wide evacuation to the West, the Capital, they still haven’t told us anything, not even a proper reason as to why any of this is happening, but there are rumors that the entire eastern part of the country has fallen, to what? No one knows for sure. They told us that eventually, everything would be alright, but do I really believe them anymore? I don’t know. The evacuation is proceeding by city blocks, and it won’t reach us until tomorrow, at least that gave me a bit more time to pack up.” _

  
  


Remembering that long line of cars on the highway outside, abandoned and burned, it appears that the evacuation didn’t go as planned and something went horribly wrong during the process, meaning the author of this journal most likely didn’t survive. He turned to the next page, quite eager to read up on other entries the author wrote in this journal.

 

He found none.

 

The next page is smeared with ink and rippled, near impossible to read the sentences that had been written, he can only make out a few very vague symbols that resemble words, _ “Coming… Break… Lost… and Failure,” _ He muttered, whatever was the original entry on this page, he was certain it had something to do with the fall of this city. He quickly flipped through the next few pages, only to find that they are all in the same or similar condition: Smeared or covered in ink, pages are either rippled, or just straight up torn in half, he kept in turning the pages until he reached… Blankness. 

 

The page he is looking at now is crisp and clean, not a single mark or crease on its almost perfectly flat surface, so white to the point where it is almost painful to look, it creeped him out, there is no way that these pages belong in this book, but yet here they are, lying still in front of him, as if all the horrors the was written beforehand were mere an illusion. He slammed the notebook shut, still unable to believe what he had just seen, disbelief and doubt washed over him like waves under the full moon, followed by a sense of eeriness, but he refuses to let these emotions get the better of him. After shaking his head in an attempt to clear his mind, he levitated the book off the table using psychic and pushed it into the pouches on his sides, thank god it is small enough to fit in there, it has almost become a tradition for him to bring a piece of item from a world that he visited, to pocket them in his chest back home as keepsakes, objects to remind him of the adventures he experienced, good or bad, he wants to have a way to remember them. 

 

**Thump**

**Tap**

 

He jumped at the sudden sound  echoing from the hallway he just left, making his fur stand up on end, the compound should be empty, he was sure of it as he didn’t hear any abnormal sounds until now, the sound echoing down the concrete walls are in no doubt footsteps. His ears perked up towards the direction of the doorway, listening in for more sounds. He wait in silence, but no more noise came beside the initial two, perhaps it is just water dripping onto the-

 

The steps resumed, getting more rapid and disorganized the closer it is to the room, they have the wet sound of someone walking on mud, each and every footfall is chaotically spaced from the last, with no rhythm or audible pattern at all, as if the person approaching have never learned how to properly walk, a stumbling noise could then be heard, followed by a scumble of scratching and animalistic grunting before the steps resumed. Whatever is coming this way is something he do not wish to face at this point, he needs to leave this world now, before it is all too late

 

He looked up at ceiling… or what is left of it, making sure that there are no obstacles between him and the sky, and surely enough, there wasn’t anything standing between him and the sky. Now knowing that his escape plan will not fail, he closed his eyes and reached for that specific energy residing within his body. The creature is getting closer by the seconds, by now he can begin to hear its ragged breaths and grunts, but he knows that he will be well out of its grasp by the time it gets here. A soft blue light begins to cover the Umbreon’s form, until his form is no longer visible in the aura of light, then abruptly, the little light show ended, and the Umbreon is now nowhere to be seen.

  
  



	3. The Lab

“Who are you?”

 

“...”

 

“God Damn it, I asked who are you?!”

 

The human kicked the cage in the middle of the room out of irrational, raging at the fact the creature inside the cage refuses to give him any information on itself, leaving him guessing in the blind. The cast iron cage shook under the force of his kick, but the creature locked inside stood its ground, undaunted by the human’s verbal threats, its bright yellow eyes ladened with a few stripes of blue staring right back at the human.

 

“... You asked me who I am, I have answered that, then you asked what I am, which I also has answered, both with honesty, human. I am unsure of what else you want me to answer." The creature answered with a calm voice, seemingly not worried about his current situation at all.

 

The human gritted his teeth at its response, “Yes, I know your name, and I know what you are, an Umbreon, is that it? But you have told me nothing what an Umbreon actually is!”

 

The creature responded with the same tone of voice, smirking a little bit, “...An Umbreon is an Umbreon, what more do you want me to explain? It is much more simpler than you think.”

 

However, the human doesn’t seem to be amused by his response, "Grr… You little insolent… If you don’t want to do it the easy way, we will do it the hard way.” He then turned to another human standing behind him, wearing a white lab coat, “Men, I want a full analysis of this creature on my desk by 0600 sharp! There can be no delay." The scientists saluted him as a form of acknowledgement of his command, satisfied with the arrangement, the human stormed out of the room, leaving Umbreon alone in his cage in the middle of the concrete room, accompanied by only a scientist, who has now headed off to a metal cabinet, preparing something.  

 

The Umbreon sighed out of mild annoyance, this unexpected change of events certainly added unneeded difficulty to his exploration, not to mention all the precious time he wasted by staying here, but again, all of this could have be easily avoided if he wasn’t being so careless , he should have been more careful when entering an unknown complex, a heavily fortified one to boot. It is highly unlikely for him to be detected and captured if he is actually paying attention to where he was going, a primitive trap like a pitfall would have no chance of fooling him, but he is attention was divided, distracted by the fact that he might finally meet another intelligent life form after witnessing nothing but barren landscapes, haunted ruins and abandoned city, for weeks upon weeks without end. 

 

The crispy sound of shattering glass brought him back from his mindless wonderings to reality, it seems like the scientist has dropped an empty vial onto the ground, the man cursed himself and proceed to reach for another one, not even bothering to clean up the glass on the ground. The room he is in is essentially a concrete box, the lack of windows and strong smell of mould and sodden earth indicates that he is most likely deep underground, This research laboratory, if it can be called as one at all, since it is incredibly bare in terms of technology and equipments compared to the ones he had seen, everything here could only be described as archaic, like something out of a bad 1950's TV set. The bare lamps above are constantly flickering, casting a eerie glow within the room, like an old movie reel in a theater, threatening to tear itself apart, there are no futuristic looking machinery, no grand plasma screens, no metallic flooring or ceiling… No nothing. Only cold concrete slabs placed down to act as floors, wooden beams that are wedged deep into the surrounding walls, acting as support so the whole thing doesn’t collapse onto itself, crude metal tables and benches down one side of the room, piled with vials and beakers, most of them filled to the brim with mysterious liquids of various colouring, giving off an rather irritating smell into the air, a smell that is a mixture of acidic and metallic, an dusty computer lay on one of the tables, its screen is glowing a dim white light, a white arrow is at the end of a chucky paragraph, blinking, waiting for further instructions. 

 

The human scientist, on the other hand, is standing in front of a cabinet, the only one in this room, vigorously preparing for the test that is about to follow. “And… Everything is in order for my further examination of this creature. Hmm… Let me writing down its data first...”  The man muttered to himself, unaware of the fact that the Umbreon heard everything he was saying, thanks to his rather large ears. The Umbreon knew he has to act now, before it is too late, he cannot allow any recorded data about him to be left on this world, it is quite clear the Pokemon doesn’t exist in this world, records of his existence will cause nothing but panic and fear. 

 

Thankfully, the Umbreon already has a plan in mind, probably not the best course of action in this situation, but it will have to do.

 

The man turned around, this time with an empty syringe in his hands, “Now, little one, I know you can understand me, none of this is necessary if you would just tell the Sergeant more about your species. I don’t see why all the secrecy is needed, we will let you go once we know what we want to know.” 

 

“...We all know that is not true, human. I know your species, I know that people like you in human society value knowledge above anything else, human crave for knowledge, they have the desire for knowledge, they wish to know how everything works and why it functions like that, Normally, that is good, but once they begin to crave for knowledge and let it rule your life, they are no different than mindless monsters.” He shook his head, “Let us be honest here, human. We both know what would happen after I told you everything I know about me, about my species, you would have taken my blood anyways, then you would continue to experiment on me, perhaps cut me open just to see how everything works? Just because I look different than you doesn’t mean I am an simple animal.” 

 

The scientist obviously wasn’t happy about his remarks as his face grew darker as he listened to the Umbreon continuing on with the little speech of his, “Very well, you left me with no choice, if you truly believe we are monsters, surely I can’t disappoint you, can’t I? In fact, you just made my job much less… boring, if I should say, you will be a valuable part in my research.” He chuckled, and began to slowly approach the Umbreon's cage, one step at a time, attempting to scare him.

 

However, before he could even take his third step, the Umbreon’s eyes suddenly begin to glow with a faint blue light, just like the rings on his body that puzzled every human who had seen him, the scientist took a step back out of horror and caution, “St-Stop! What are you doing!?” He shouted in fear.    
  
“...Just doing what every responsible citizen should do, taking out the trash.” He replied in the same soothing voice, as if nothing major is actually happening.

 

Before the scientist could even mutter a reply, the cabinet which was originally behind him has now came down upon him, knocking him on the head and bringing him to the ground as it smashed into his body, rendering him unconscious, but the the human is not the only thing that fell with the cabinet, the glass laboratory apparatus stored in the cabinet slipped out of their position and crashed into the ground, smashed into a thousand glittering fragments, dancing and scattering all across the floor, someone else is bound to hear that. 

 

Surely enough, a set of footsteps could he heard rushing down the hallway, moments before another human came barging into the room, presumably a soldier or a guard, judging by his olive coloured military uniform and steel helmet, and the submachine gun in his hands. “What the in the name of God happened in here?!” Only to discover that the only person capable of answering him is now laying flat on the ground, with a metal cabinet over him, unconscious. He set his gun down beside the table and attempted to remove the cabinet from the poor scientist while calling for help, “Som-” 

  
  


The guard grunted and fell down with the scientist without muttering a single word, struck down by the stock of his own weapon he left carelessly on the ground, the Umbreon let out a faint laugh, thee humans have obviously underestimated his capabilities, and has never heard of the term “Psychic” before. He waited in silence for more footsteps and arrive, but none did, it seems like no one heard the cry for help from the guard, which is good, he doesn’t want to attract any unwanted attention. Now it is the matter of getting him out of this cage is he is in, which is surprisingly easy, he simply extended his psychic energy into the interior of the lock and turned it as if there was a key inside, a click could then be heard, as the lock is now undone, he simply nudged the gate out of the way as he stepped out of the small cage, being careful to not accidently step on the glass shards.

 

The scientist grumbled out something inaudible, it looks like he is not completely knocked out, but as of now, he poses no threat to him. “...I would stay down if I were you, your head is going to hurt after you regained full consciousness, but you left me with no choice, you brought this upon yourself.” He informed the human, he was never one for violence, even considered as a pacifist by some that know him, but he will certainly not hold back in case of danger or self-defense. But the human doesn’t seem to want to give up as he brushed his hands to the side, attempting to push the fallen guard and the cabinet off him, ignoring the all the glass shards that are cutting his hands. His attempts to free himself was cut short as the Umbreon realized the rising threat and knocked him over the head with the guard’s submachine gun, stucking him to the ground once more. “...I told you to stay down, and you should have listened.” He probably couldn’t hear what he is saying anymore, but he rather not to take any chances.

 

The gun dropped to the ground with a clank as he retracted his psychic power back into his body, returning his eyes back into their normal colour. This neat little trick of his has saved him countless times during his journey across different worlds and certainly made up for not having hands, though he never understood how it worked, Dark Type energy and Psychic energy Type don’t exactly get along all that well, so it is puzzling to him as to why he learned how to use Psychic from a TM he found at the end of the Dungeon.

 

He mentally scolded himself for getting distracted so easily, perhaps the constant exploring is finally taken a toll on his mind, he knows that after this whole ordeal is over, he has earned a well deserved break.

 

He picked up a set of leather pouches that had fallen out of the cabinet, his leather pouches. They were removed from him without during the time period when he was rendered unconscious by the tranquilizer dart, it appears to him that they were planning on performing tests on its contents after they are done with him, which unknowingly made things easier for him since he doesn’t want to wander around the entire facility just to look for them, and Arceus knows how big this place is. Flipping open the cover with his teeth, he checked to see if anything is missing, it certainly doesn’t seem like it, the berries are all in the same position as he left them, a couple of rolls of fabric that he called bandages that he insisted on giving him despite knowing that the Umbreon doesn’t get hurt all that much, a small ink pen which he uses to take down important information or just notes about something that interests him on this notepad, which is right beside the pen. After ensuring that nothing is missing, he threw the pack onto his back, readjusting it a bit so it fits him comfortably, the pouch is nothing special, made out of old leather and considered by some as deeply unfashionable, frayed around the edges, it surely has seen better days. But all it matters to him is the pouch is extremely durable, never tearing or breaking apart on him while keeping his properties nice and dry, he was never a big believer that outer appearance matters at all, so he is fine with the lack of decoration on the pouch.

  
  


Using the human pile and the cabinet as leverage, he successfully hopped onto the table where the scientist left the chart he was supposedly recording information about him, the charts and graphs that lined paper were neat and clear, but ultimately mostly empty and useless, they didn’t know anything about him after all, the only few charts they filled out are his weight, height, length and species, they didn’t even put his name on the chart, all it says is “Subject 249” near the top, he was right, they never considered him as a sentient creature, just another subject. He suppose he can even leave this paper here and they will learn nothing, but it is always better to be safe than sorry, he ripped the paper clean off with his teeth, hastily stuffed it into his pouches, then jumping off the table and headed towards the exit of the room, he is not going to stay here.

  
  


(Line Break)

  
  


“Run! Find and join your squad!”

  
  


“Now! Let's go! Hit them hard!”

  
  


“You heard the Lieutenant! Let’s go!”

  
  


“Mortal Team! Give me some H.E. on those sons of bitches!”

  
  


“Set up here! 430! Four Rounds! H.E.!”

  
  


“Hard Load!”

  
  


“Hanging!”

  
  


“Fire!”

  
  


“Hard Load!”

  
  


“Hanging!”

  
  


“Fire!”

  
  


“Drop 4-5!”

  
  


“Shit! Smith! I am hit! Medic! Medic!”

  
  


“Hold the Left Flank! We can’t let them get through!”

  
  


(Line Break)

  
  


The tunnel was originally lit up by a line of bare light bulbs protected by wire cages lining both sides of the walls, but first they flicked, then they buzzed, before giving out and plunging the entire hallway into darkness dark, pitch dark, the power supply of this facility had most likely failed for the time being, there is no openness, nothing that shines and the smell of dampness perfumed the air, like he just walked into some pit, it is so narrow where it can only accompany three people walking side by side, someone else walking in the opposite direction would need to dip into one of those side room to let them go by… Given the fact if they are not locked. 

 

The walls in this tunnel are in a gray undercoat, perhaps even showing the concrete beneath them, devoid of any decoration or variation, though he is certain it is done on purpose, for this place is anything but abandoned. The floor is uneven from so much traffic and judging by the smell, it hadn't been cleaned in quite a while. However, darkness caused by the power outage wouldn’t have masked his appearance if he hasn't dimmed down his rings, they are literally a beacon of light amidst the darkness, broadcasting his location to everyone who sees it, he never understood as to why Umbreon have these glowing rings, it is more of a disadvantage than anything else for these creatures of the night. Sure, it enables them to relax and regenerate under the moon, but there has to be a more effective way of doing so than putting glowing rings all over one’s body. 

 

Long and featureless, that is what this hallway basically is, at least on the plus side, besides the scientists and the guard who came in to help, he haven’t encountered any more resistance, or any living beings in general, not a single sound could be heard behind most of the steel doors the lined the walls, and those do make a sound is mostly the sound of water dropping onto the ground or the constant buzzing of the vents that are supplying this underground facility with fresh air, which is surprisingly not offline along with the Lighting System, they must be on a different power grid. 

  
  


A sudden conversation coming from behind door he just walked by made him jump. A sign above the door reads: “Block 3 Planning Room.”

  
  


“Damn, when will be the power be back on? The engineering department needs to get their shit together, this is the fourth time this week! ”

  
  


“Relax Runner, cut them some slack, you know how the war is going now, with the damned artillery pounding on our power lines and forward emplacements, there's gotta be a couple of shortages.”

  
  


“Shut it, both of you.”

  
  


“Yes, Major.”

  
  


“I don’t want any more bullcrap from any of you, do I make myself clear!?”

  
  


“Yes, Major.”

  
  


“Private Malarkey, take your flashlight and make your way to the engineering department ASAP, I need to the goddamn power back on to read the maps.”

  
  


“Yes Sir.”

  
  


Before he could even react or find a place to hide, the door swung opened and a man in the same uniform olive-colored uniform walked out, carrying a flashlight and a rifle. Well, as long he doesn’t point his flashlight in his direction, he shouldn’t be able to-

  
  


The lightbulbs in the hallway flashed, and blinked into existence, illuminating the tunnel, the power has been restored.

  
  


“Hey Major, look! Looks like our boys in the-” Malarkey stopped in mid-sentence he noticed the creature that had been revealed by the light, staring back at him. For a moment, neither side said anything or moved an inch, the human out of pure shock and the Pokemon out of pure surprise. 

  
  


The guard reacted first as he finally realized what he was staring at the possible danger he was in as he frantically begins to bolt and load his rifle while calling out for help, “Runner! Get your Rifle! We have an-”

  
  


He didn’t get to finish his sentence as the Umbreon grabbed the steel door using psychic and slammed it full force into his face before he could finish loading his rifle, causing his to tip backwards and losing the grip on his weapon, giving the Umbreon the opportunity to rip it out of his hands, gripping it by the barrel and struck the guard straight across the face with the wooden stock, knocking him out in one swift hit. 

  
  


The second guard wasn’t doing nothing as all of this unfolded in front of his eyes, he started loading his rifle as soon as he heard the first guard’s cry for help, but he was still too late to help the first guard, by the time he looked up with his weapon in hand, the first guard as already fallen unconscious, his gun levitating in the air, pointing at him, with that strange creature at the doorway.

  
  


“...Human, I would recommend you to put down your arms, I do not wish to harm you, unless you give me no other choice but to do so, I just want to leave this facility.” He warned the human, keeping the rifle pointed at him. In reality, he has no idea how to use a gun, they never taught him, why would they? He can protect himself without the use of firearms, but the human doesn’t know that, to him, he might be ready to fire that gun at a moment’s notice.

  
  


“Private Dave, lay down your arms, if this creature is to fire, we would all be dead.” The Major commanded, standing behind a writing desk, likely unarmed himself.

  
  


“Yes… Sir.” The guard complied, dropping his weapon to the ground and placed his hands behind his head. 

  
  


“...Much appreciated, as I said before, I wouldn’t hurt you.” The levitated rifling suddenly flipped one hundred and eighty degrees and flew right at the guard, smashing into his forehead, knocking him clean out. “...But I rather take no chances.” He flipped the rifle again, this time pointing right at the Major, who now has a look of horror on his face. “...Major, I would gladly thank you if you could tell me where I am, and how do I get out of here.”

  
  


The Major is at a loss for words, he had heard about some talks about a bizarre creature being captured at the perimeters of this base and transported in for further examination, but that is all he know, he is in charge of Battlefield strategizing and planning, not the sciency part of this facility, the fear of the unknown plus the fact the creature just took out two of his most trusted guards without using any visible weapons or breaking a sweat almost made him want to tell everything he knows and scramble away in terror.

  
  


Almost. 

  
  


But he is a soldier, someone that willingly joined the army and swore to protect his country and do what is right, he might be defenseless, but his lips are sealed, many have succumbed to the temptation of peace and lies, others buckled under the fear and surrendered, he is not one of them, his loyalty to his country will not be deterred by the threat of death. 

  
  


“I don’t you what you are or whose side you are on, but you ain’t getting shit out of me, do you hear me? You want information? Over my dead body!” The soldier yelled at the Pokemon, wanting to show his determination to resist to the end and trying to scare the creature. 

  
  


However, he got a different reaction from the creature than what he expected. 

  
  


The rifle flipped in the air again, its stock pointing at him rather than the barrel, “...Very well then, you have made your choice, I can see that you are a loyal individual to your country, but your refusal to tell me what I want to know in order to deny me information is fertile, because...” The rifle stock smashed against his helmet,  taking him out just, just like his two fellow guards. “You really should have thought about where you are… This is a room for strategizing and planning… I am sure I can find something out without you help.” Surely this so called “Planning Room” can offer just as much as the Major would… Given if he could even find the intel he needed in the piles of maps and documents, he sighed in silence, he will be here for a long time.

  
  


(Line Break)

  
  


“Sergeant! They broke through our left flank!’

  
  


“How many?”

  
  


“At least 75! They overrun us! And all guns are out!”

  
  


“Make your shots count! We are running low!”

  
  


“Goddamnit, where is our support?!”

  
  


“Sergeant! Tank! Tank at one o’clock!”

  
  


“Cover!”

  
  


“Fall back! Fall back!”

  
  


“HQ, HQ, this is Charlie! We are requesting immediate fire support! The enemy has driven a wedge between our lines! I repeat, the enemies have driven a wedge between our lines! Requesting...”

  
  


(Line Break)

  
  


The planning room was tasteful in a strange way, four concrete walls and a bare floor, there is nothing in there that looks interesting enough to catch anyone’s attention at first sight, a long circular desk in the middle took up most of the space in the room, displaying what seems to be an overview of a continent, or a section of it at least, littered with flags of varies colours and miniature models of ships and planes, looking more like a children’s playground than anything else, he made attempts to read what this giant map is trying to convey, but it's weird symbols and names confused him, he only manage to figure out one thing for sure: This world is at war, and the odds are grim. 

  
  


Posters and diagrams of foreign war machines and vehicles are pinned to the back walls of the room, riddled with tiny text of analysis and evaluation of performance, a long metal table lay directly under the diagrams with three sets of radio receivers on top, a couple of metal chairs in front of it, and a water dispenser in a corner. The radio he saw here are nothing like the ones he used to see, they are large, bulky and more complex than what they need to be, which does make sense considering this world is not technologically advanced like the other worlds he visited, nor do magic exist, unintentionally making his escape much easier as he is less likely to encounter foes he can’t handle.

  
  


Piles upon piles of files and maps made his head ache, the problem he has now is not having too little information, but rather too much information, most of them he doesn’t need at all, such as reports of troop movement, statistics of amount of Military Supplies arriving monthly, plans of operation, reconnaissance photographs… the list goes on, but these seemingly useless information did enable him to piece together the current status of the world he is in: A war just ended in this world, but peace didn’t follow, another war did. One of the two victorious factions is concerned about the enormous size of troops deployed on the continent by the East Side after the war has ended, and the perception Eastern leader was highly unreliable, a plan to attack the East was formed, despite the Eastern troops outnumber them two to one, the plan was passed and put into effect. It was a disaster, the West had suffered defeat after defeat and the Eastern troops are closing in on its capital, the West is mustering everything it can to salvage this desperate situation, but he knows that it is hopeless. 

  
  


He never understood why humans always wage war against each other,  he knows that war accompanied them throughout their history, in fact, he can say that the human history is a history of war, people fought against others for what they believed in, even the mightiest of all empires cannot withstand the fury of war and time, they all fell, every single one of them. The victors then rose from the ashes of those they defeated, only to suffer the same fate. The unending cycle will continue on, until one day, when the world falls again, no one will be taking the wheel, and continue the cycle. Some might say they fight for fame and glory, and some might say they fight because they want to be a hero, but in the end, fame is nothing but a heavy burden upon your shoulders, in the end, it will get so heavy, it will crush you. As for heroes… they are not the glorious warriors many thought they to be, they are just puppets, pawns of a game, a game called war, a game where no one wins. He is certain there is a human saying: “If you don’t learn from history, you are bound to repeat it.” But they never did, they never learn from their mistakes and errors to avoid repeating them in the future, if they did, the world would be different. Perhaps it is something he is not supposed to understand, perhaps they don’t even understand themselves.

  
  


Eventually, he found what he was looking for all this time, a construction blueprint of this facility tucked away at the bottom of a set of old reports, looking at it, it appears that this facility is way larger than he expected it to be, he is currently at Block C, the deepest block in this entire facility, hosting Laboratories, Interrogation Rooms, Communication Center, Planning Rooms and Surveillance Center; Block B is right above him, hosting the Dining Hall, Living Quarters, the Kitchen and Dormitory; Block A is the top layer and surface buildings, consisting of Armoury, Barracks, Outposts and Bunkers. There are a couple of ways he can take to reach the surface, but the majority of them will most likely result in tense confrontations or even violent engagements between him and the personnel in this military installation due to their location, something he tries his best to avoid, he is not immortal, he will die if he is to do something wrong, taking the path of least resistance is always advised. Thankfully, there is a path with less traffic than the others, an emergency staircase at the other end of Block C, while he still has to travel through half of the length of Block C, it is much safer than other options. 

  
  


He turned to check to see if any of the guards or the Major have woken up, they are still unconscious, perhaps he hit them a bit too hard, but in these situations, caution is above all. After making sure the humans are not waking up anytime soon, he didn’t head straight to the door, but instead hopped back on the planning table, picked a miniature model of a tank and hurled it into his leather pouches before hopping back down and headed towards the doorway, surely they won’t mind him taking a little souvenir.

  
  


(Line Break)

 

“We have no chance! Run! Run!”

 

“What about the lab?” 

 

“Forget the lab! We need to get the fuck out of here!”

 

“Steven! No!”

 

“Leave him! He is gone! We need to get out of here now!”

 

“Medic!”

 

“Where the fuck is the Charlie Company?!”

 

“Retreat! Fall back to town and dig in! We have to hold this sector!”

 

“Sniper!!”

 

“Get that fucking AT Gun Into position!”

 

(Line Break.)

 

“All Man to battle Stations, this is not a Drill. All Man to Battle Stations, this is not a Drill...”

 

The sound of alarm raged across the entire facility.

 

It wailed electronically along the corridors, leaping out from corners and bends, echoing against the solid concrete walls, blaring and unrelenting, breaking his thought process and forced him to cover his ears to soften the noise from assaulting his sensitive ears, overhead, a small light came to life and begin to rapidly flashing red. 

 

It might be an ancient method, but it is effectiveness is not to be doubted. 

 

Right now, through the open creeks of the door he is hiding behind, he can see guards and soldiers alike storming out of their rooms, dressed up in full marching gear, rushing towards the staircase and elevators, he is lucky that no one considered using the emergency exit, or things could get pretty ugly here, they might to be unarmed, but a forty verse one situation could hardly go well for anyone. They seem to be nervous and fearful rather than courageous to face whatever is to come, he could hear their nervous chatter even from here.

 

“Are they here Sir? Are they… really here? What happened to Charlie, Fox and Baker Company? Aren’t they suppose to cover our left flank while we hold the center?”

 

“We lost contact with them about an hour ago, aerial reconnaissance and radio traffic shows that they have been overrun by the enemy forces and retreated without orders. We are it.”

 

His words applauded the soldiers, the chattering among them ceased, no one said anything for a while, until one soldier looked up and asked with a shaky voice: “Do we… do now? Sir? Surrender?”

 

The Officer shook his head, “No, we resist, and fight. We all swore and pledged our allegiance to this country, that we shall defend it to the end, now it is the time to honor our vows. We will defend this facility to the last men, to the last cartridge, death is the fate of all soldiers, a fate we may too, soon embrace. Any cowards, panickers and deserters, leave now, we don’t need you here, for those who wish to remain, I will be at the Forward Observation Bunker in Sector 3. Arm yourselves, you all know where your positions are.” With that, he turned his back on his men and ascended up the concrete stairs, his steps are heavy, but firm.

 

The soldiers remained still at first, and then, one by one, they followed his footsteps up the stairs, their expression grim and stern, they all know this is probably their last fight, they are all that is in sight, but no one panicked and no one ran, they will take up arms and resist the enemy, even if they are outgunned and too few in numbers, but it is their duty as a soldier, to defend and do what is right.

 

He waited until all soldiers ascended the stairs and the sound of a steel door slamming shut before nudging the door open and coming out of his little hiding spot, the sirens are still pesting the hallways, the recorded voice announcing the same lines over and over again, even though they have already done their duty of alarming the garrisons of the approaching enemy forces,  they persisted on, the sounds made his heart pound in his chest, like a requiem, a requiem for a lost war. 

 

“S-Stop!” A young voice appeared behind him.

 

And stop he did.

 

“Tu-Turn around.”

 

And turn he did.

 

He is now staring into a face of a man, or at least someone who has the form of a man but certainly not the courage all those soldiers possess. He can see that he is shaking slightly, he can see the fear in his blue eyes, he can see the sweat rolling off his forehead out of nervousness, surely he can’t be much over eighteen. His military uniform is slightly too large for his size, getting baggy at places, his olive drab helmet almost covered his eyes if it were not adjusted slightly back. The young soldier is clutching a trench knife in his hands, refusing to take his eyes off the Umbreon.

 

“Wh-What are you?”

 

“...Not an Ally or a Foe.”

 

The boy doesn’t seem to be convinced by his words, as he refused to put down the sword.

 

“Ho-How do I know you are not lying? Yo- You didn’t answer my question, what are you?”

 

“... Human, listen, I don’t want to fight you, and what are you even planning on doing with that knife? As I said, I am not a Friend, or a Foe, just the wrong creature caught in the wrong place. If I am not mistaken, you still have a battle to fight, unless you no longer desire to fight this war, which I can understand, no one wants to die. But… I strongly advise you to stay out of my way, I just want to leave here, there is no need to make things harder for both of us. I am… sorry for what your world has become, but there is nothing I can do.” 

 

Without giving the boy the time to respond, he turned away and continued on with his original path towards the staircase.

 

“H-Hey! Get back here!” The boy protested, but his shouts were simply ignored by the Umbreon as he began to hop up the stairs one at the time, slowly vanishing from his field of view, but he didn’t pursue him, he stood there, staring at the Umbreon until his bushy tail vanished from his view. 

 

He is so close to the surface, he can feel it, he can taste the gunpowder in the air, he can hear the crackling of rifles and the shrieks of guns, he can feel the ground trembling with each shell that fell, he can smell the smoke from the burning equipment, just a few more meters, and he will be out of here, he must have a clear view of the sky in order for his Teleportation trick to function, or else he won’t have to travel through half of the complex. 

 

Hopping onto the final set of stairs, he is once again back on ground level, now the only thing standing between him and the sky is a set of heavy-

 

He heard something.

 

First, it is like a small whisper, a light screech, then it grew louder, the sound turned into what only can be described as a noise between a primal cry and a shriek, but it didn’t stop, it continued to grow as the sound becomes more and more distorted. 

 

“Get down! Cover!” Someone shouted behind him.

 

But it was too late for him to react, something struck the bunker head-on, first an explosion, then a blinding flash.

 

And everything went to black.

 

(Line Break.)

 

“Are you 4/5?”

 

“No! This is 3/7!”

 

“And then where the hell is the 4th Battalion?”

 

“We gotta move! They got us bracketed! Get your ass out of this hole! We gotta move!”

 

“Fall back 70 dig in!”

 

“Rounds Complete! We are all out!”

 

“Do you read me? Iron Fort, this is L-3, do you read me?”

 

“Get him on his feet! Keeping moving!”

 

“We have to pull back!”

 

“Hold your position! There can be no surrender! No defeat! No retreat! On your feet! Damn you! Fight!”

 

“Sir! We lost Sector 4! Sector 2 and 3 surrendered! We can’t hold this position much longer! CO is dead!”

 

“Arghh!”

 

“Abandon your position! We are done for!”

 

(Line Break)

 

It is raining.

 

Crumbled concrete lay ash-like on the ground, a cold, wet dust over every inch of ground, there it would stay until the rain washed everything clean again, washing away the horrors that once occurred here.

 

Cold droplets of water on his fur woke him up from his forced slumber, his hearing is still suffering from the after-effects of the explosion, muffled and hazy. His head hurts, the pain is clogging his mind, making it difficult for him to think properly, he raised his head from ground, shaking off the rubbles and wet dust, he tried to focus his eyes on his surroundings to see where he is and what exactly happened, though his vision is still blurry, he is certain he could see the dark sky, which wasn’t there before, closing his eyes, he shook his head in an attempt to clear his vision, it worked, but his vision is still fuzzy, he doesn’t know how long has passed, the concept of time is lost to him now. A section of the bunker walls and roof no longer exists, a gaping hole now stands in their place, the heavy steel blast door is severely bent and broken, twisted at awkward angles, lodging itself into the bunker’s back wall, the once smooth concrete are now riddled with bullet holes and burn marks, the once formidable defensive structure is now no more than a ragged pile of rubble.

 

He pushed his shaky body up from the pile of rubble, shaking off the ones that landed on him, and limped towards the opening in the wall created by the shell blast. He doesn’t get hurt all that much, plus it is hard to injure himself in the first place, but that blast was more than enough, he is aching all over, especially his back where most of the rubble landed, but on the bright side, his body heals fast from injuries, he should be fine in an hour or two. Reaching the edge of the wall, he looked out, and saw exactly what he was expecting.

 

The rain persisted, the landscape outside is barren, lifeless, the ground is nothing more than a sea of mud, littered with shell holes, smashed equipment, shattered barbed wires, abandoned emplacements and the remains of those who have fallen on this battlefield, just a graveyard of the unburied and forgotten. Their corpses lay in the mud, in their own blood, perhaps miles upon miles away from the front lines, their parents, brother and sisters are waiting for their return, waiting for someone they will most likely never see, they are nothing but meat for the birds. The trees in the vicinity are nothing but a lone trunk, ripped in half by some external force. From the opening here, he could hear the roars of the artillery in the distance, and the echoes of guns of those who continued to resist.

 

But the battle was lost, they have failed, the enemy has won.

 

How many had fallen in this struggle? How many more will follow suit? How many families are broken? How many dreams are shattered? How many hopes have perished?

 

War will never end.


End file.
